


What really happened in South Africa...

by j_obsessed



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But they fix it, Cute, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Joe is an idiot, Jos is in love and in pain, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Revelations, What happens when Jos and Joe are separated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: Media says they were sick...Unlikely story, in my opinion.
Relationships: Jos Buttler/Joe Root, hints of Jimmy Anderson/Alastair Cook, hints of Stuart Broad/Steven Finn
Comments: 16
Kudos: 14





	What really happened in South Africa...

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my loves @Rosetylars and @Cricket_crazy28 <3 This is for you.  
> The idea got away from me, and I ended up with 8000 words.  
> I hope you enjoy it 🥰💕

SOUTH AFRICA VS ENGLAND: JOE ROOT AND JOS BUTTLER HIT BY ILLNESS AS TOURISTS TOIL.

\--

Landing in South Africa was actually quite uneventful. No bombarding at the airport (thank god, because the 10 hour 35 minute flight was torture enough) and no remarkable delays or missing luggage. Joe’s ears still hurt though. Remind him never ever to sit without Jos again. Jos always has a few pieces of strawberry gum for him. Why he wasn’t given his usual place with the vice to his captain (also his best friend since they were 15 and maybe a little something  _ more _ in the past eight months but shh-  _ professionalism _ ), he has no idea.

He makes a point to talk to management about that. For the sake of professionalism of course. Because they absolutely would have spent the 10 and a half hour flight talking about game plans and important strategic manoeuvres- they would not be holding hands during turbulence and leaning on each other and watching movies together and eating chocolate and soft jellies that they would have brought to share. No, they are  _ professionals. _

When they get to the hotel, Joe accepts his keycard from one of the staff members, and heads up to his room. He doesn’t see Jos anywhere, and there are no bags in the room yet. Joe chucks his stuff against the front of the bed on the side with the window, and collapses into the mattress. He’s only been lying there for about five minutes when a wicketkeeper walks into the room. Not  _ his  _ wicketkeeper. But a wicketkeeper. Jonny.

“Hey skip. Looks like it’s us for this match?”

“…Oh. Okay.”

There’s a bemused smile on the keeper’s face. “That bad, am I?”

Joe shakes his head quickly. “No  _ no _ , not at all Jonny, I’m so sorry. It’s just- I was uh, expecting someone else.”

Jonny laughs, “Relax Joey, no harm done. I take it this one is mine then?” He gestures at the other bed.

Joe startles. “Oh god, no I’m sorry do you want the window side? It’s just. Jos usually lets me have the beds on the window-side so it’s-”

“OH, you were expecting Jossy! Of course. You guys always room together. Captain and his boyfriend.” Jonny winks, and Joe flushes a little.

“Not my boyfriend Jonny…”

_ Yeah. Right. _

“Mhm sure. I wonder why management screwed that around this time. It’s the first time that I’ve actually  _ ever _ seen you guys  _ not  _ be in a room together. That’s really odd…” He trails off. “I don’t mind Joey, this bed is absolutely fine.”

Joe smiles gratefully. They freshen up, and get ready to head downstairs for dinner.

\--

The moment they arrive at the hotel, Jos legs it to his room. He’s just spent more than ten and a half hours without Joe, and he needs to see him now. He pushes the door in and drops his bags haphazardly.

The first thing he notices, is that his Joey isn’t there. The second thing he notices, is that there’s a bag against the bed on the side that does NOT have a window. And the third thing he notices, is that James Anderson is laying in that bed, talking endearingly to someone on his phone. (Jos suspects it’s Ali. His suspicion is confirmed when Jimmy says ‘I wish you were here with us; we miss you so much.’)

Jos smiles despite his lethargy and asks Jimmy to say hi from him and Joey. James does so, and the response must be something good, because he actually breaks out into a grin. The man bids Ali goodbye, and looks up at Jos.

“Why are you here?” Jos blinks at his own tone. Wow, that was unexpectedly harsh. 

“That’s a damn good question, honestly. I thought I was rooming with Broady?”

“And I was supposed to be with my-”

Jimmy raises an eyebrow. Jos realises he sounds like a petulant three year old and promptly pokes his tongue against his cheek.

There’s a knowing grin on the brunette’s face. “Did you mean to say your best friend? The love of your life? Husband? The one who makes your heart beat? Your-”

“Don’t say it.” Jos hides his face, groaning "Not you too.”

Jimmy laughs. “Don’t worry about it, only teasing. I used to do the same when I was roomed with Stu instead of Ali.”

There’s an unbelievably fond smile on Jimmy’s face as he says that. And Jos misses Joe even more.

“How did you do it? You know?” He hasn’t been in contact with Joe for about eleven hours, and Jos feels like his heart is about to stop beating.

“I tried to win every match for him. Made sure he’d notice.”

“Not that. I mean, how did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“You know- that you guys were-”

Jimmy scoffs a laugh. “Jos, you know me better than almost everyone here. How- how could you actually think  _ I _ told  _ Ali _ . He figured it out. Ali knows everything.”

Jos cannot help the pained, yet affectionate expression that flies over his face. Because that’s such a Jimmy thing to say. And, it’s just-

“He’ll come around. When he figures out it’s you. Or when you fucking tell him. He’ll accept it.”

_ But he won’t. _

That makes the pain in his chest escalate. 

Jimmy notices the struggle he’s going through and tells him to hurry up and get changed, so they can head down to dinner.

\--

Jimmy, bless him, tells Jos to wait, while he runs in and sends Joe out. It takes about half a second for Jos to squish his best friend into his chest. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for his heartbeat to relax, and for his body to go back to normal.

Joe is extremely content with that, wrapping his arms around  _ his  _ wicketkeeper’s shoulders, tucking his face tightly against his neck as he finally  _ breathes _ . Some of the exhaustion drains from his body.

That’s all they can manage, before they need to split apart as a staff member walks past, and tells them they’re needed for a meeting.

Walking back to the dining room, they notice that Jimmy has left two seats vacant on his left. Jos has never been more thankful for James Anderson in his life. Not even when he took that 10-45 at Headingley.

Jonny and Ben look at the two of them as they walk in- both blondes looking much calmer and fresher than they did before. Why they even bother with their denial anymore, is beyond most of the team- they’re so obvious they may as well be wearing diamond wedding bands. Apparently, everyone knows they’re gone for each other, except them.

Someone from management speaks up. “Hello, some of you are probably wondering why there are only a few of you here currently, and why your room placements aren’t as usual. There’s currently a bug going around, so we’ve tried to isolate people who have been confirmed sick.” 

Jos had noticed that both Mark and Broady had looked incredibly down, when leaving the plane. And usually, those two room with Bairstow and Jimmy. Jos concludes that Jonny is rooming with Joe. Which settles him- only somewhat, because he knows the ginger would have let their skipper have the bed closest to the window, on the left side.

“Make sure you guys are all eaten and rested, the first test starts on the 26 th , day after tomorrow.”

Jos makes his way over to one of the members, and quietly asks if there's any way that he can have his original room placement back, because he and Joe 'needed to go over some plans for the bowling attack and fielding placements.’ They tell him that under no circumstance can they have both their captain and vice-captain in the same room, possibly getting sick. Jos doesn't have much of a defence for that, but he already knew he was fighting an uphill battle. 

Dinner goes by really quick- Jos has his chair shifted right next to Joe’s under the table the entire time- and soon enough they’re back in their rooms, ready to sleep.

The flight, time difference and travel time have knocked almost everyone out, and even if its fitful, and unresting, they do eventually get some sleep.

\--

Training the next day is light, as it usually is right before test matches, mostly just some slip catching, a couple of throwdowns in the nets, and a good team night, with cards or monopoly or dinner.

Jos tries his luck with management again, but they are staunch. 

"We can't risk both of you being unwell, we already have almost half the squad unwell, and if one of you is somehow not carrying symptoms, and that results in both of you being down for the count, we'll lose this match. Sorry Jos, but we have to do what's best for the team's health." 

Sleeping, is really really hard. Jos is  _ exhausted _ . But he can’t for the life of him, get comfortable. There’s something missing from against his chest, absent from his arms, and it’s putting him off. He tries substituting the weight with a pillow, but it sits wrong across his body. Doesn’t feel the same in the slightest. He tosses and turns so much; he almost wakes Jimmy. Thank heaven he doesn’t, because a grumpy, just-woken James Anderson is not something Jos is equipped to deal with. (Only Ali is equipped to deal with that, to be completely honest. Jos is a bit similar, in that if anyone but Joe wakes him up, he might strangle them…)

He’s just wishing, hoping, that Joe is sound asleep, because they’re facing South Africa tomorrow, and it is not going to be good, if their captain is sleep-deprived, exhausted, and unfocused. 

A floor above, in Jonny and Joe’s room, there’s a very similar scene unfolding. Joe has barricaded pillows against his back, but there’s no viable substitute for the lack of warmth around him. Or the weight of something protective over his waist. Joe doesn’t know what it is, but something is missing. There’s a shift around him. And something feels wrong. His attempts aren’t working, and Joe can’t sleep. It’s making him anxious. Because he needs to captain tomorrow, and if he can’t sleep, he’s going to end up doing a shoddy job of it. He doesn't know why he's feeling so off. 

When it comes to morning, Joe realises that he has barely slept at all. This is going to be one hell of a match. But he’s pulled through sleepless nights before. He’ll survive this.

Two espresso shots have Jos feeling quite awake, and Joe’s unbelievably caffeinated Yorkshire tea is doing him some good. They have a quick conversation about field set-up, and who’s bowling from what end, before they take to the pitch. Jos somewhat notices that they both look much fresher after they’ve spoken. He doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

The first innings, sees South Africa bowled out for 284. A reasonable effort. Stu bowls beautifully, and you’d never be able to tell he was taking Panadols every four hours (Finny would yell if he took them any more frequently). Overall, it’s a decent day’s play.

Team dinner goes smoothly too. No one is throwing mashed potatoes across the dining room yet, so all is well and good.

\--

Sleeping is getting progressively more difficult. Joe can’t stay asleep- his body just won’t do it. He spends half the entire night lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He tries to sleep, he really does. Tries counting sheep, sends his mom a text, tries spraying some cologne onto the sheets and pillows he’s surrounding himself with, in attempt to just get some rest. But it doesn’t work. The mattress feels unbelievably uncomfortable, and all his muscles are aching. He’s really really worried that he’s caught this bug.

Jos is fairing much  _ much _ worse. He’s been keeping for the entire day, in the sun. 84.3 overs, in a half squat. His legs are cramping, and he already spent two hours with physio to make sure he’s alright to bat tomorrow. But that was at the expense of spending any time with Joe.

(His Joey was actually the one who shoved him into the physio’s room, and demanded that he get himself checked out. Never mind actually, because Jos has decided that that was his  _ captain _ . His  _ Joey _ , would’ve probably made them nap on the couch. Granted, that would definitely have jeopardised his performance tomorrow. Sigh. Joe is a very good captain… And an even better sou- DAMMNIT. FRIEND. HE’S A FRIEND. A REALLY GOOD FRIEND, WHO DOES NOT WANT A SOULMATE. WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS.)

Jos tries everything, the 4-3-7 technique, ‘deep breathing’, he even sends Ali a text, and talks to his second favourite test captain for a while- avoiding the topic of Joe as best he can, before the older man has to attend to something on his farm. Jos misses Ali, a lot. Jos misses Joe a lot too…  _ Joseph Buttler. You stop that right now.  _ Before he knows it, it’s 6 am, and he hasn’t even closed his eyes. He almost falls into the floor when he tries to get off the bed, almost has to gasp in order to breathe. He almost hopes that Joe isn’t feeling the same pain. He shoves the thought aside and heads to the bathroom.

Joe hasn’t slept for very long. Everything in his body is screaming at him to close his eyes, but it’s just not happening. And as much as he wants to crawl into bed and knock right out, he can’t. Not just because he has a test match to play, but because he physically  _ can’t _ . It’s just not happening. He chalks it down to the adrenaline of test-match cricket.

He supposes, that by tonight, after another whole day of test-match cricket, he’ll be completely smashed, and his body won’t have a choice but to let him rest.

He tries to find Jos quickly, wanting to spend some time with his best friend in the change room as he pads up, waiting to go in to bat. He really hopes he doesn’t have to go in soon, because, even though he spent the entirety of yesterday standing next to him at first slip, he misses his blonde wicketkeeper desperately. They sit together, and Jos presses an almost-kiss to his forehead, as he slumps against the blonde’s broad chest in relief. He almost falls asleep right there in his spot, which, is odd considering he’s been in a supposedly comfortable bed for twelve hours and couldn’t even try to get his body to switch off. Joe realises that this probably doesn’t look very friendly- and briefly wonders if Jos’ soul- (no, Joe refuses to call them  _ that _ )  _ significant other _ would be okay with this. But they’ve always been like this, close and affectionate, so what does it matter. He tries to enjoy a bit of peace while he can.

However. Unfortunately. Life is just not doing it for him right now. Because both their openers go for single digits. The first one in 3 overs. Fuck.

Things fall apart. Fast. There isn’t a single score above fifty. Not even Joe’s. And that is really remarkable. Joe getting out before reaching his fifty is almost as likely as the sky falling down.

Jos’ strike rate is at  _ thirty _ . And that, is even more remarkable. Because Jos getting a strike rate of below a hundred, is basically about as likely as hell freezing over.

Everyone looks worn out, absolutely battered. Bowled out for 181. It’s not a pretty sight.

South Africa returns to the field, and thankfully, his team seems to redeem themselves slightly. A brilliant LBW – (James Anderson never fails to impress), and two beautiful catches from Jos off Archer and Broad’s bowling instil some faith. A final wicket goes to Jof, as the SA captain holes out in the outfield.

As it turns out, Joe is very wrong about his body being too exhausted to stay awake. He’s not wrong about the exhaustion, because his body physically hurts, and there’s definitely bags under his eyes, which, in his very sober and not sleep deprived opinion, make him look like a raccoon. Joe sits at the edge of his bed the entire night, spacing out, not noticing the time flying by. He’s struggling to lie down. Every time he tries, his body lurches, and he feels his insides twisting painfully until he gives in and sits up again. His throat feels dry and no matter how much water he’s drinking, it still feels like he’s swallowing hay. His eyes are closing on him, but he keeps involuntarily jolting awake. Everything feels  _ wrong. _

Jonny wakes up to find Joe blankly staring at the wall opposite his bed, forehead covered in cool, damp sweat. He mentions that he thinks Joe might have caught this bug that’s going around, and that he should tell management right now. Joe refuses. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have this bug, because he’s not showing the same symptoms as the people who have it. He just feels…  _ off. _ In all honesty, he kind of feels like he's going to die. But he won't be allowed to play if he says that. So he explains that he feels like a jigsaw puzzle that’s been jammed together, without a lot of pieces, that are somehow missing. That explanation probably worried the keeper more, and Jonny almost drags him straight to the medic.

Joe, ever the stubborn captain, refuses and swallows three panadols. (After making Bairstow swear on his life that he won’t tell Jos.)

But getting to bed that night, for Jos, is even worse. He can’t even stay still. Each time he lays his head on the pillow, it feels as though someone is trying to sledgehammer their way out of his left frontal lobe. The blanket is not doing enough for him, or rather, it’s doing too much. The temperature is wrong, and he’s breaking out into cold sweats. He’s frustrated and deliriously tired, and his whole body is aching. He spends half the night bracing himself on the bathroom sink, trying to breathe, and trying to stay upright. He tries taking a hot shower, but it makes him feel worse. Like he’s suffocating. When he tries to slip back into bed, it’s uncomfortable, the blanket is too warm, and there’s too much of it. Every warmth is the wrong kind of warmth

Jimmy comes over to check on him twice, incredibly worried that Jos has caught the circulating bug. The blonde explains he doesn’t have the flu, but it feels like something is just  _ wrong _ . Like everything is out of place. It’s as if someone has a voodoo doll, and is just poking and prodding their way around. Everything feels off. Like the world has tipped off its axis. When he says that, Jimmy rushes out of the bathroom, and calls Ali immediately. Jos ignores him and begins to prepare to keep for the match. But then Jimmy is back and forcing him into the medic’s room without a second glance, and he’s prevented from taking the field. Jonny takes the gloves and promises him that he’ll do his best. Jos doesn’t have a doubt in the world.

He collapses into a seat in the dugout, and pulls out a book, trying to keep his distance from the rest of the team- and Joe- to prevent them from getting sick- management's orders _. _ He mouths an ‘I believe in you, good luck’ to Joe, just as the younger leads the team into the field. The younger barely manages a smile. Jos is incredibly worried about his captain. The pain in his own chest isn’t subsiding- it almost feels like it’s getting worse. And he can tell, from the dark circles and the robotic movement, that Joe hasn’t slept at all. They both seem to be in the same condition. Jos starts thinking again, this time, he doesn’t force himself to stop.

That incredible worry escalates even further 40 minutes later, when Joe is brought off the field, looking mere seconds from passing out. Jos forgoes all of management’s yelling about isolation, and runs straight to him, just as the younger loses his balance, falling to his right. Jos makes it in perfect time, to catch Joe with his chest, encircling his arms around the young captain protectively. He shoves his way through everyone around them, carrying the blonde to a bench, lying him down softly, and tucking an unworn hoodie under his head. Jos glares at anyone who comes within fifteen feet of them, unbelievably angry that they even considered letting Joe into the field at all. When the younger finally gains consciousness, blinking slowly, a few agonising minutes later, Jos is able to take a breath. Completely ignoring everything going on, he leans forward to press a kiss to Joe’s temple. “You just scared the fucking shit out of me.” He buries his face into the centre of Joe’s chest and inhales. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

One of Joe’s hands comes up to run through his hair as he breathes out in relief. “I’m sorry. Just didn’t want to let the team down. I am the captain after all.” They stare at each other for a minute, their first real minute of contact this whole series, before some medic staff come in and take Joe away for necessary check-ups. Jos reluctantly lets him go. Within three hours, Joe pushed himself to get back on-field. Jos tried his best to discourage the idea, but the coaches agreed that the team needed their captain back. Jos isn’t allowed back on, so all he could do was watch Joe struggle to hold his own on the field, while their team struggled to survive the match. The burning sensation in his chest returns the minute Joe is on field without him.

The fielding is poor, run-outs go begging and slips catches are dropped like flies.

After the incident, he still, is not allowed to be around Joe. Management are very certain that they are doing the right thing- since it’s obvious that ‘you have the bug Jos, and we do not need Joe getting worse than he already is.’

Jos is very certain they are not. Because he knows, he doesn’t have the flu. He knows what’s wrong. He just doesn’t know how to explain it to them. Or to his soul-  _ stop that.  _ He winces as he feels something invisible constrict around his chest.

They don't really have a choice regarding his presence on the field though, because they need him to bat. He doesn’t feel that it does his team any good. His strike rate stays at 66. And Joe just falls short of his half-century  _ again _ . Despite a brilliant knock from Burnsy, they’re bowled out for 268, and South Africa wins by 107 runs.

The amount of them that are unwell, is greater than the number of rooms they have available to isolate them all. Miraculously, Joe and Jos, although both forced off-field a day ago, do seem to lack the right symptoms for this bug. Something that Jos has been trying to explain all along. Jonny and Jimmy both seem perfectly fine as well, and they would be sick by now if the other two were infected. After some stern coercion, from Jos- who keeps glancing worriedly at Joe, (who's slumped uncomfortably across the sofa, fidgeting uncontrollably) the coaches  are forced try their best to take some new damage control measures.

i.e. Jos makes them _asks_ them, _very kindly_ , to send out new room fixtures for the next night.

389 – Jofrah Archer

390 – Mark Wood

391 – Benjamin Stokes, Jonny Bairstow

392 – Jack Leach, Ollie Pope

393 – Chris Woakes, Joe Denly

394 - Rory Burns

395 - Sam Curran

396 – James Anderson, Stuart Broad

397 -  **_Joseph Root, Joseph Buttler_ **

Jos packs his shit up in record time. Jimmy doesn't even bat an eyelash. The bowler actually helps him get his stuff together. Jos loves him so fucking much. Jimmy pushes him out the door after a quick one-armed hug, and a stern ‘you better fucking tell him Jos.’

He forgets how tired he is, or how much his body hurts, or how utterly disappointed he is in himself for his performance in this test.

Fuck all of that.

Because he’s crashing through the door of room 397, straight into his Joe’s arms. And right now, that’s all that fucking matters. Just like that, Jos feels some of the weight on his shoulders dissipate. They hit the bed immediately, Jos stumbling backwards, tugging Joe down with him, desperate to just  _ have him _ \- both of them collapsing into the bed. Jos has his arms wrapped around Joe for the entirety of the fall, content to take the fall with him. (That would be the second time that’s happened. They already fell for each other a long, long time ago. Neither of them really talk about it though.) Jos refuses to stop touching him, holding him, breathing him in. He knows they need it. More than Joe knows. He tugs him so close, that the younger can hear his heartbeat.

Jos can feel Joe surrounding him, literally and figuratively.

The perfect warmth- never too suffocating, or too chilling, the perfect scent- yes, his cologne, but mixed with something that Jos has never been able to put his finger on, but apparently can’t breathe without, the perfect contact- the younger fitting against him perfectly, his smaller, lithe, lean body tucked between solid arms and a broad frame.

Something inside the blonde wicketkeeper gives. Everything he’s missed in the last five nights, everything that he needs to just, be  _ okay _ is right here in his arms at this precise moment.

As much as Joe knows he should pull away. Leave. Stop doing this stuff now that he knows Jos has a soulmate-  _ that isn't him _ . He can’t. He tries to fill the silence before he says something he’s going to regret.

“I don’t have the flu.” Joe says. “I thought I did, but it doesn't feel like a flu.”

Jos sighs.  _ I don’t have it either. _ “What does it feel like?”

“I have no idea. All I know is that everything has been a nightmare.”

“Especially sleeping.” Jos presses two fingers to his temple.

“Oh my god, especially sleeping. Everything has been  _ wrong _ . I haven’t slept in five nights, and my body is giving up on me. I’ve been breaking out in cold sweats, and blanking out for hours at a time. It was so weird. My body just went into a shutdown. I’m so sorry I collapsed on you like that, but it just hurt so much and I couldn’t hold myself together and I just saw you and I almost knew you’d catch me but it hurt so bad.”

A crease appears on Jos’ forehead, and Joe leans up to smooth it out. “Did you say cold sweats?”

Joe shoves his face into Jos’ chest and nods. The only way he feels like he’s able to breathe oxygen right now, is by taking it from Jos’ body. Jos links their fingers together, but only on one hand, because the other is busy stroking across the sandy blonde hair that’s tickling his jaw. Joe’s other hand is clutching his shirt, as it usually does when they sleep together, before nerve-wracking matches, or after not-so-good results.

“I had them too. I spent half the night in the bathroom, on the tiles or sitting on the edge of the sink, because the blanket was too hot, and there was too much of it. The bed was uncomfortable, and I don’t understand why, because most of the other boys have said they’ve been sleeping perfectly.” That’s a lie. Because he  _ knows  _ why.

Joe nods his head again enthusiastically and then stops very quickly- because it hurts like hell. “Jonny said it’s the most comfortable hotel he’s been to in SA. I was cold, almost  _ freezing _ . Like hypothermia level freezing. The blanket wasn’t doing enough, and the mattress felt uneven and I know that sounds fucking insane but I could literally feel that it was unevenly distributed. I felt like I was going to roll off it and hit the floor, but each time I got up, it looked perfectly levelled.”

“Every time I laid down; my body would force me to get back up. I couldn’t keep myself upright, but I couldn’t lie down without getting a migraine so bad, that I thought I was going to pass out from the pain.”

Joe looks at him confusedly. “That- that happened to me too. I’d lie down, and my body would physically lurch out of the bed, as if it was drowning and needed to break the surface. I gave up, and sat at the edge of the bed the whole night. Took three panadols in the morning. Didn’t do shit.”

Jos hums. And then- “YOU TOOK WHAT?!” Joe flinches at the volume, and Jos rubs his temple softly in apology. “Fuck. Sorry Joey.”

“I had to. I had to play. Maybe we caught something different. Like another bug?”

Jos doesn't acknowledge the hypothesis, just hums again. He’s too relieved that his fluffy little batsman is okay, and that its clear, neither of them have this bug. He knows, or, he has known for a while, what's really happened, but he rationalises that they're both too exhausted to talk about it right now. They forgo dinner, falling asleep almost immediately.

In the same kind of bed  _ Jos _ has failed to get a moment of sleep in, for the past five nights.

In the same kind of bed that  _ Joe _ has failed to get a moment of sleep in, for the past five nights.

_ Somehow _ ,  _ together _ , they can sleep.

_ Perfectly _ .

Uncanny isn’t it.  _ Cue Jimmy rolling his eyes. _

The bed almost feels like a cloud.

There’s no tossing. No turning. No cold sweats. No spacing out. No pounding headaches. No shortage of blanket. No excess blanket. No freezing breeze. No burning sensation. No awful hotel room smell. No sickly stale air freshener.

The second Jos pulls the quilt over them both, they’re out like a light.

Neither of them even remembered to put their cards in the slot that turns on the electricity for the room.

But neither of them are awake for the next fifteen hours to notice.

When Jos wakes up, Joe is lying atop of him, face tucked against his shoulder, the rest of their bodies fitted together with no trace of a gap between them. There isn’t an inch of his skin, that isn’t covered by the young batsman. He doesn’t want to move. He thinks that he might actually die if he does. Joe looks so peaceful, and the bags under his eyes have completely disappeared. His face has been returned of its beautiful colour, and from this close, Jos can see the flourish of his eyelashes.

He leans down, breathes in the scent of the younger boy’s shampoo- and Jos feels something around his heart release. Like the axis has been tipped back the few degrees that it had been displaced. He looks over at the window, where sunlight is already beaming through. He curses that they’re not at home, because he’s going to have to remove one of his hands from its current situation on Joe’s back to check the time. (They have Google Home in their room back at home, on the bedside table- set to a low volume, specifically so that Jos never ever has to do this. Because back home, they do sleep in the same bed. And more often than not, they end up sprawled over each other.)

_ Jos needs to tell him. _

It’s 8:45, (he promptly returns his hand to its spot on Joe’s waist) and he knows that they need to be downstairs in about half an hour, for breakfast and a team meeting regarding their performance in the last test. He’s not looking forward to it.

He really needs to talk to Joe about this. He knows it’s probably going to cost him the best friendship he’s ever going to have, but he’d rather Joe know the truth and hate him- than be in constant pain like this.

They both do look much better, is what they gather when they stare at their reflection in the bathroom mirror, Jos’ hands wrapped loosely around his Joe’s trim waist, as he nudges his nose against his neck. The taller blonde looks like he’s undergone a spa treatment and facial, rejuvenated and relaxed and tranquil. Joe is melting in his arms and they both just feel  _ better. _

It’s so blatantly obvious, that when they do eventually show up to breakfast,  _ everyone _ notices the difference. Jos’ hair is less unruly (still messy but now it's like... purposeful), Joe’s cheeks are warm to the touch (his skin has been like ice for the past few days) the younger has made his first appearance without a jacket in  _ days,  _ and Jos’ skin isn’t covered in a sheen of sweat as it has been for the past week.

“What the fuck, these two, all of a sudden, after  _ one _ night, they’re okay? This is bullshit. It took me a whole bloody week." 

"It's called being bloody  _ soulmates,  _ Broady." Mark says.

"Well then someone get David to replace me, I’m going the fuck home to Finny. My own soulmate will fix me too.”

“Soulmates?!” Jos chokes on his own voice.

Joe looks over at Jos questioningly. “We’re not soulmates. Jos’ soulmate isn’t here.”

Jimmy coughs loudly. Every single one of their teammate’s eyebrows raise in disbelief and exasperation.

A few pairs of eyes land on Jos, who shrinks in on himself. “Stu for the last time you twat, I did not have the flu,” he says. 

“Then why did both of you look like you were going to die for the past five days”

“Jos, I literally saw you the third morning of the test, you looked like absolute shit,” Jonny says. Jos sticks his tongue out at his fellow keeper, who just laughs at him fondly. 

“Are you both seriously telling me that you’re  _ not _ soulmates.”

“Shut the fuck up Woody.” Joe says, and Jos is taken aback by the venomous tone.

Jimmy hasn’t said a word since Mark's comment, which, to be honest- isn’t unusual.

But there’s this…  _ glint  _ in his eyes.

“Soulmates eh?” Is what the Lancashire bowler says, quietly, to the two blondes as they sit down.

Joe blinks at him. “Tell me that James Anderson did not just say the word soulmates.” Jos looks extremely panicked, and is shaking his head very forcefully.

Jimmy chuckles at their expressions. He trains his gaze on Joe. Jos feels his stomach drop. “Have the two of you, ever, slept in separate rooms?” Joe shakes his head, and Jimmy nods in understanding. “Happened to me and Ali, the first time we went back home after our tour. Although, it wasn’t ever this bad. Not by a long shot… Wait a second. Did you just say that Jos’ soulmate…  _ isn’t here? _ ”

“Yes!” A few of the guys stare at Joe before he drops his voice back to a whisper. “Jos met them right before we came on this trip!” The younger blonde has an awestruck, and slightly agitated expression on his face. Jos looks away. “It’s just coincidental that Jos and I were both sick, and we probably just caught some different bug.” he glances over at Jos who is avoiding eye contact determinedly. 

Jimmy glares at the wicketkeeper. Angrily. 

“Did you sleep in separate beds last night?”

“N- wait why exactly does that matter?”

“You didn’t. And it matters, because it's obvious you both were in such shit condition because you were kept apart for so long.”

“Do you actually seriously believe that? I obviously had some sort of fever. And, did you happen to miss the part, where Jos already knows who his soulmate is. And it’s  _ not _ me. We- are not soulmates.”

Jos keeps his mouth shut. Tries to ignore the searing pain that courses through him when Joe says that.

Jimmy looks between the two of them in utter disbelief. “Let’s try something then, Jos you come sleep in my room, and I’ll send Broady in with Joey.”

“For what?”

“For proof.”

“So basically. I’ll be fine, and Jos won’t be.”

“If what you are saying is true, then yes.”

“And that will prove to you that we’re not ‘soulmates’ then?” Joe suddenly feels his own heart clench when he says it.

“Yep.” Jimmy is not having any of Joe’s shit today. Jimmy’s not having any of anyone’s shit today.

“Done. Since everyone around here seems to fucking need  _ more _ clarification that Jos and I aren’t meant to be.” Jos’ heart  _ screams,  _ and he gets up to leave the table _. _

Jimmy throws his hand out to stop him. “Alright Jos, I’ll see you in 396 tonight then.”

Joe looks at Jimmy annoyedly.

“Well, if you’re so sure that you’re not soulmates, then you should be just fine without him.” Jimmy snaps.

“No that’s not what I-”

“We’ll try it, Joe- you'll be able to sleep just fine anyway, right?” Jimmy looks over at Jos disapprovingly. Jos shakes his head in defeat as Joe gets up to start the meeting. 

Jos walks out of the room and tries to steady his breathing in the humid South African air.

Somehow, it’s better than being in an airconditioned room with his sou-  _ enough.  _

\--

It’s not working. Jos can’t sleep. Jimmy has been watching him fight his bedsheets for the past two hours with a pained, knowing grimace.

“Don’t you even say I told you so. I tried to tell him; you know I did. I tried to tell him before the series. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t believe in it. You know this. I told you this. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ Why does it hurt so much?”

“God you’re both fucking idiots. I can’t believe you didn't-  _ how doesn’t he know it’s you. _ Fuck I wish Ali was here because he’d have set you both straight in five fucking minutes. As for the pain, I have no concrete idea. Usually, being apart, would just cause a really subtle burning sensation. Most people barely notice it. But you two have been deprived of a whole week of contact, after almost eight months of living together. This is the first time you’ve been without his constant presence, isn’t it?”

Jos blinks, and then nods in agreement. “So basically, every time I’m not around him, it should just feel like it’s a little harder to breathe? That's all?"

Jimmy nods as well.

“And this feeling, that my heart is going to stop beating, and constant burning on my skin, and the fact that I can’t even  _ sleep _ , and that everything has been going wrong- is  _ not _ something you went through?”

Jimmy nods again. “It could also be, that you’re both in a little deeper than you know. Like. The stronger the bond, the more pain you’d feel when it’s stretched?”

Jos makes to say something else, something like ‘that makes a lot of sense actually’ but his body is not cooperating, and he can feel his insides twisting up.

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ it’s getting even worse Joe must be-”

The room door flies open, and Joe is in his arms, gasping for air. Jos clutches him like a lifeline, and Joe’s hands fist in his shirt. “ _ Fuck. _ ”

"Close by," Jimmy finishes for him. 

The younger blonde almost sobs into the wicketkeeper’s shoulder in relief. “I’m  _ sorry.  _ I’m so sorry-”

Stu follows suit, almost in hysterics. “Management is going to kill themselves over this. They lost two of their best batsmen because they SEPARATED THEM, TO TRY AND PREVENT THEM FROM GETTING SICK. Who in their right mind separates Joe and Jos? Where was the fucking logic? Literally everyone can see that they’re fucking soulmates. Well, except for themselves apparently.”

Jos, seemingly in a better position than Joe, drags them back to their room. Joe’s breathing returns to normal, and Jos’ insides stop feeling like they are being squeezed to their death by a boa constrictor. They're laying side by side, completely silent, while Joe tries to restore his breathing.

Once he manages to get some of his air back, he sits up immediately. “How?! But, it couldn't be, what about-”

“I didn’t drop a name. I didn’t even say I met anyone. I just asked if you knew who yours was. I suspected, a long time ago. It always kind of hurt to be without you. Moving in with you made me realise that you shouldn’t have to gasp for breath after walking up a few flights of stairs.”

“The day before the series. You hadn’t- you mean- you were going to tell me then? You knew that it was me?” Jos doesn’t say anything. “You asked me, whether I had one, and if I wanted to know who it was. And I-”

“You told me that you didn’t believe in them, and that if you had one, you didn’t want to know. You were content just living there, being friends with me.”

“Oh my god-” Joe's breathing gives out and he falls back into Jos’ embrace, already been without his touch for too long, and it  _ hurts _ . 

“Everything in my body, these past few days, has been screaming at me to go to you. Being closer to you, and not being able to touch you, or just, be there with you, made it worse. Watching you off the field, it hurt. Sleeping without you, after sleeping next to you for so long- Joe I hadn’t slept in five nights. And then when you collapsed five feet from me, it felt like it ripped my heart open.”

“Jos. Did you really think, that I would be angry that we were soulmates.”

Jos nods, almost wincing.

“You mean to tell me, that we’ve been feeling like shit- you definitely more so than me- because I’ve been telling myself that we aren’t  _ soulmates.  _ You’ve been dealing with that pain, that feeling, for this whole week?”

Jos’ face screws up in agony. “I’m sorry. I know, this isn’t what you wanted. I was going to tell you yesterday evening, and this morning, but I couldn’t manage- Not when you’d told me you were so against it.”

Joe is almost shocked enough to pull away.  _ Almost _ . He doesn’t really want to chance  _ not being able to breathe _ again. He just looks at Jos, imploring him to continue.

“I know you didn’t want us to be, you know, like this.”

Joe doesn’t seem to understand.

“I know you didn’t want us to be soulmates.”  _ Ouch. _ Both of them cringe in pain. “I know you don’t like the idea of them. I know you wanted us to stay friends. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god I’ve fucked up. Bad. I’ve fucked up so bad.”

Jos blinks at him, clearly very confused. Regardless, he tugs the smaller blonde into his arms and strokes a soothing hand across his back.

“Are you telling me, that this entire time, for the past eight months, that we moved in together, you didn’t maybe think, or realise, that I wanted you as more than a friend?”

“I did, sort of, but- that’s not what I meant. When I asked you that night, it was obvious you hated the idea of soulmates, and when Mark mentioned it this morning as well, you were so angry-”

“Jos. It’s not that I hate the idea of soulmates.”

“So it’s the idea of me-” Another wave of absolute agony rolls over his body, and he feels Joe’s hand around his wrist tighten in recognition. Because it hurts them  _ both. _

“ _ Listen to me. _ When you asked me that night, I assumed you had found  _ yours _ \- and I thought- I thought that it wasn’t me. It couldn’t have been me. I had shut the idea down a long time ago. Because, well, I never thought I had a chance anyway. But hearing you talk about it, that cemented it. And if- if it wasn’t going to be you and I, then I wasn’t going to believe in it at all. Because it’s bullshit.”

Jos isn’t exactly sure whether that breaks his heart, or gives him some sort of hope.

Joe must notice that it hurts him- because- they’re  _ connected _ like that, and when Jos’ heart tightens, Joe feels it too. “No  _ no _ , not like that-” Joe clutches at his own chest, in an attempt to get some air. Jos forces himself to stop thinking. “God  _ fuck _ that hurts.”

Joe takes a moment before continuing. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, what does it matter if the universe says you’re mine? I would fight everyone and everything in every universe if that's what it took to keep you. The universe doesn’t get a say. But then, I thought maybe you’d found your person. And the universe did get a say. And maybe, you would be happier. So I shut it out, and I told you what I told you.”

Jos stares at him. Completely flabbergasted.

“I didn’t know it’d hurt us like that. That it’d hurt you like that. I truly thought you'd found someone. I just- I couldn’t believe in soulmates- not after I thought that you were someone else’s. Because. If I had to have a soulmate that wasn’t you. I’d never be able to love them the way I love you. Because, I would, in every universe, without a doubt,  _ always _ love you. And. If I was destined to be with anyone else, as I thought- then the universe had to have gotten it wrong. Because I would always end up choosing you. 'Soulmates' means I don’t get a choice. I don’t love you  _ because _ we’re soulmates. I just  _ do _ .”

Joe’s eyes glaze over.

“Please forgive me.” He inches up slightly, bracing a hand beside Jos’ head and kisses him deeply. His wicketkeeper doesn’t argue, just follows his lead, sighing into his mouth contentedly, allowing a soft hand to rest under his jaw. Jos turns slightly, to face his…  _ boyfriend? _ Joe kisses his forehead softly.

Jos stares at him. “Joey?”

“Hm?”

“Please, please don’t go anywhere.”

“I could never. I won’t. Not again. I promise.”

Jos’ fingers find their place on Joe’s skin. Its silent for a minute and Joe has already almost fallen asleep.

“Joey?”

“Mhmm?”

“You’ve always been my soulmate. Even when I didn’t know it. I loved you from the moment I met you. I’m sorry, that I didn’t try harder to tell you. And I’m sorry I didn’t just come out with it and tell you that it was you. That it’s always been you. I don’t know how- how you could think I meant  _ anybody _ but you when I mentioned it. I’m sorry I gave you a doubt that it could  _ ever _ be anybody but you. And I do love you. So much. I would love you in every universe too. This week without you has been the most painful thing and-” Jos' voice tapers off with emotion.

Joe hides his face in his  _ soulmate’s _ chest. Finally,  _ finally _ there is a reprieve. Tiny, barely-there kisses are laid across his bicep, and over his collarbone. They’re the softest presses of lips, but Jos can still feel them, and it’s like the final droplets of rain after an enduring drought. When everything has been restored to it’s original, beautiful, flowering state. “I’m sorry. I love you. And I’m so sorry.”

Jos finds his bearings. “I’m gonna have many, many words with management. I’ll kill them if they do this to us again. I thought I was fucking dying. I literally thought I was going to die. I tried talking to them, twice, but they were adamant." 

“Adamant? About keeping us apart? I just assumed that they had a lot of crap for us to do!? You mean they’ve been intentionally keeping us apart?!”

"They were afraid we'd get each other sick." 

" _ Outrageous _ . But. In a way, they  _ were _ right Jos..." Joe’s sunshine smile is back.

"Yes, but the damn cure wasn't to keep you away from me fuck's sake." Jos wraps his arms around Joe, and squeezes him tight, pulling the younger on top of him. Joe doesn’t object. He places his hand on his wicketkeeper’s jaw, and leans in to tell him lovingly;

"Turns out, all I had to do was tell you I loved you.”

Jos looks at him so fondly, and Joe is finally feeling okay again, as he settles down to sleep. Jos pouts after a few moments. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Joe leans up to kiss him goodnight. “I love you. Sweet dreams my love.”

“They will be now.” Jos doesn’t let him go. Not for the entire night.

\--

Management gets an earful from Joe in the morning. (And then from Jos, when Joe heads up to get their bags.)

They make it a point not to separate the two ever again.

\--

By the morning of the next test, both of them are at their best. Joe makes his fifty in the second innings, and Jos’ strike rate is above 100 once again.

They win by a whole hundred and eighty nine runs.

Yeah. Management makes it a capitalised, bold, underlined and italic point.

**_DO NOT SEPARATE JOSEPH BUTTLER AND JOSEPH ROOT._ **


End file.
